


Love Eternal, Time Immoral

by Jackie_Cronefield



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fódlan Frights Halloween Exchange (Fire Emblem), Gothic Romance, ghost au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27361027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackie_Cronefield/pseuds/Jackie_Cronefield
Summary: Bernadetta von Varley is a noble of the Adrestian Empire; the sole heir to House Varley. Her father, Count Varley, has been tirelessly searching for her a suitable man to marry, without much of a care for what Bernadetta thinks. However, sometime after moving into a glorious gothic manor house, Bernadetta contracts tuberculosis, and is confined to her bed. Her father hires the best doctors to cure her quickly, so he may marry her to another nobleman sooner than later.However, one dreary day, Bernadetta is feeling more tired than usual. The house is quiet, and her eyes droop, her ailment seeming to spare her for just a little while; enough for her to drift off into a peaceful sleep.It is not the peaceful sleep she asked for....
Relationships: Bernadetta von Varley/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14
Collections: Fodlan Frights Halloween Exchange 2020





	1. A Cruel New Reality

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@Chromadetta](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40Chromadetta).



It is always so confusing and scary, knowing that you have died; however, it is worse when you do not know at all. That was the case for poor Bernadetta von Varley, who died of tuberculosis at the young age of twenty-three. The last thing she remembered before waking up was closing her eyes, praying that the pain ravaging her lungs would soon subside. She also hoped that her father would not be so impatient about her getting better, as he wanted to marry her off as quickly as possible, and he certainly couldn’t do that in her current state. When she opened her eyes, however, the room was dark, the dark curtains drawn and the mirrors covered. Bernadetta sat up in bed, wondering how it got dark so quickly. Could she have accidentally fallen asleep? 

She had been very tired, she had been for days, but Bernadetta didn’t expect to fall asleep that fast. However, with how well she was suddenly feeling at the moment, Bernadetta wondered if that nap did her some good. It was nice to get some uninterrupted sleep, without waking up coughing and hacking, followed by some more blood escaping her throat. So, feeling as good as she did, Bernadetta got out of bed, grabbing her shaw and wrapping it around her shoulders before exiting her room. When she stepped out of her room, Bernadetta noticed that many candles were lit throughout the hall; quite a few actually. Why, she had never seen so many candles lit in the house before! As curiosity pulled at her, Bernadetta continued down the hall, though did so cautiously. 

Bernadetta wasn’t exactly afraid of the dark, but something about the way the candles flickered and cast strange shadows on the walls made her nervous. The house had an ominous, eerie feeling about it; Bernadetta didn’t like that feeling at all. She soon came to the staircase leading to the foyer of the house, descending it as she made her way to the parlor. Once she reached the bottom of the staircase, she saw signs of life about the house. A servant girl scurried across the foyer, carrying a tray of tea and biscuits, her face solemn and anxious. From the way the girl carried herself, and from the look on her face, Bernadetta wondered if something bad had happened while she was asleep. Had her father gone into one of his rages again, angry about why Bernadetta was not well enough to meet suitors yet? 

Curiosity once again getting the better of her, Bernadetta walked towards the parlor, hearing a few male voices coming from there. As Bernadetta drew closer, she could hear what sounded like her mother crying, light sniffles and sobs echoing off the high ceilings. Bernadetta was correct about that, spotting her mother sitting in the corner of the parlor as she walked in, her mother weeping into one of her many handkerchiefs. Bernadetta hurried over to her mother, kneeling before her as she placed a hand on her mother’s arm, suddenly more concerned than scared. 

“Mother, what’s wrong?” Bernadetta asked. “Why are you crying?”

Bernadetta’s mother did not answer her, only continuing to sob into her handkerchief, Bernadetta turning her head towards her father as he spoke from across the room. 

“I should have known she wouldn’t get any better.” he growled, puffing a cigar before exhaling the smoke he had drawn from it. 

“The poor girl was just too frail to fight off the sickness, Count Varley.” the doctor said. “I’m afraid there was nothing more we could have done. Let us just be thankful that she went on peacefully.” 

What does he mean by that? Bernadetta asked herself. Have I gotten sicker than the doctor thought I would?

“It’s a shame, really,” Duke Aegir said, interrupting Bernadetta’s thoughts. “I had hoped that we could finally engage her to my son soon after her illness passed.”

“Engage?” Bernadetta gasped. “Father, you did not tell me you had already picked someone for me to marry!” 

Despite Bernadetta’s surprise, her father seemed to ignore her completely. This was not out of the ordinary, but something was different this time. Usually her father would respond to her with a reprimand or the like, or at least wave or off; this time, he did nothing but take another puff of his cigar. 

“Well, that can’t happen now, can it?” her father replied, seemingly responding to Duke Aegir. “I suppose you will go off and find someone else for Ferdinand to marry then?” 

“It would seem so,” Duke Aegir replied. “As I do not see my son marrying a dead girl.” 

“Dead?!” Bernadetta yelped. “Father, what does he mean? I’m not dead!” 

Her father, once again, did not respond, only continuing to converse with Duke Aegir and the doctor. Could perhaps Bernadetta’s voice not be as loud as she thought it was? Was that why her father, nor anyone else in the room, was responding to her? Bernadetta ran over to her father, standing over him and raising her voice again, her hands gripping the armrests of his chair to balance herself. 

“Father, I’m right here!” Bernadetta cried. “Why won’t you answer me?” 

However, no matter how much Bernadetta screamed and pleaded, her father did not answer her. He seemed to look through her, as if she wasn’t there at all, continuing his conversation with the two men. Bernadetta tried getting the attention of Duke Aegir and her doctor, but they did not respond either. By the time Bernadetta’s voice started to give out from screaming so much, she was in tears, wondering if this was some cruel joke her father was playing on her. Was this some ploy to get her feeling better, so he may engage her to Duke Aegir’s son faster? Could they be pretending that she’s dead, so she would act in such a way, and her father could show the doctor proof that she was alright? If that was the case, it was a cruel joke for her father to play; one she had had enough of. 

In the heat of the moment, Bernadetta pushed the doctor, trying to make him pay attention to her. He stumbled back with a gasp, his back hitting the wall behind him, looking around the room frantically once he had balanced himself. 

“Is something wrong, doctor?” Count Varley asked. “Have you had too much brandy?”

“No, I have not sir,” the doctor replied, his previous anxiety slowly being replaced by confusion. “I felt as if someone had just pushed me now, but I know neither you or the duke have moved.” 

“Either you have had enough to drink, or you are not as sane as you claim to be.” Duke Aegir scoffed. “After all, you could not save the count’s daughter; who’s to say you are fit to be a doctor at all!” 

Disgraced and angered, the doctor marched out of the room, grabbing his medical bag, coat, hat and cane before walking out the door; he didn’t even say goodbye. 

“Let him go,” Count Varley said, stopping the servant who was about to go after the doctor. “He is no longer of use to me now.”

“Darling,” Countess Varley whimpered, catching the attention of Count Varley, Duke Aegir and Bernadetta. “May I look at her once more, before the mortician comes to pick her up?” 

Bernadetta’s father sighed, putting out his cigar before standing up from his chair, “I suppose so; I know you will only pester me if I do not let you.” 

Bernadetta’s mother nodded before walking out of the parlor, her father and Duke Aegir following close behind her. Bernadetta felt a fear creep back into her mind as she followed them up the stairs to the second floor, that fear building with every step she took. Her father might be able to cruelly trick her into believing she was dead, and perhaps Duke Aegir as well, but her mother? Her mother would never do such a thing like that! Bernadetta also knew that her doctor wouldn’t just let the doctor walk out like that if she was still alive; it would take too long for another one to arrive. As the four reached the second floor, Bernadetta followed behind her father, shivering as a cold chill went up her spine. The cold chill came from the man who passed Bernadetta, dressed all in black, his face pale and stoic. 

The darkened man walked ahead of them, entering Bernadetta’s room just before her mother did. Bernadetta did not recognize him, nor had she seen him in the parlor. Was he someone of the Adrestian nobility, or perhaps the mortician her mother spoke of earlier? Bernadetta’s thoughts left the man and focused back on the situation at hand when her father entered the room, leaving Bernadetta alone in the hall. She hesitated for a moment, glimpsing the darkened entrance of her room, watching as a bit of light suddenly appeared from within. Bernadetta guessed it was from one of the lanterns that decorated her bedroom; the chandelier above was too high for even her father to reach. Hearing her mother’s sobs from within, Bernadetta swallowed her fear and stepped inside, slowly following her father’s gaze to the bed. 

Bernadetta screamed in horror, backing away from the bed until her back hit the wall. She couldn’t believe it, she wouldn’t believe it; it simply couldn’t be true! However, the evidence that it was laid before her: there, lying lifeless on the bed, was Bernadetta’s body. Her eyes were closed, her hands folded over her chest, likely placed there by the doctor. Her body laid there, still dressed in her white nightgown, her stuffed bear at her side. Bernadetta screamed until she could scream no more, shaking her head frantically as tears cascaded down her cheeks. Bernadetta’s hand were balled up in fists, tucked just slightly over her chin; something she always did when she was afraid. 

She knew now that this wasn’t some cruel joke, or some ploy to prove to her father that she was better; Bernadetta was indeed dead. Bernadetta slowly slid down the wall, coming to sit one the floor. She bent her legs and tucked her knees under her chin, hugging them as she stared at her body. 

I can’t be dead! she repeated in her mind. I can’t be dead!

“It is better to accept reality than live in a delusion or fantasy.” a male voice said from above her, Bernadetta looking up to see its owner.

There stood the darkened man she had seen before, his black hair hiding the right side of his face. His yellow eyes stared down at her, his arms crossed over his chest, white gloves covering his hands. His face was serious, yet nonchalant, as if he was looking down at a child who he didn’t know whether or not to scold. Bernadetta stared up at the man, her head swirling with thoughts on who he could be.

“How can you see me?” Bernadetta asked. “Are you not alive like mother and father are?” 

“Unfortunately, I am not.” the man replied. “I am as dead as you are, dear Bernadetta.”

“How do you know my name?” she asked, her fear now focusing on the man in front of her than her own dead body. 

A sudden thought entered Bernadetta’s mind, one she did not want to think about; but she could not rule it out. 

“Are you Death?” she asked, her voice now trembling. “Have you come to take me away from here?” 

“I could have been called Death in the life I once lived,” the man chuckled. “However, I must disappoint you, for I will not be taking you anywhere.” 

In a way, Bernadetta was relieved; she wouldn’t have to meet the grim reaper today. 

However, as one thought was released from her mind, another surface, “Then who are you? How do you know my name?” 

“Well, for how many times your mother bellowed it out upon your death, I can say I have a good understanding of it.” the man replied. “However, I knew who you were long before your death. In fact, I have been here since you and your family first purchased this house; perhaps, even long before that.”

Bernadetta slowly realized that, like her, this man was a ghost that haunted this house. However, despite how long he had supposedly been there, he didn’t look too happy about it. As Baernadetta’s paranoia and fear towards the man began to die down, another question came to her mind. 

“You seem to not like the fact that you have been here for so long. If that is so, why don’t you leave?”

The man laughed, “You think it is that simple? I have tried to escape this house and its grounds on many occasions; all those attempts ended in failure. It seems that I am forever tied to the house where I met my end, unfortunately.” 

Bernadetta, once again, felt fear crawl its way to the forefront in her mind, another chill running down her spine. 

“Does that mean I’m trapped here too?” she asked, her voice quivering with fear. 

“Perhaps,” the dark man replied. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

Bernadetta perished the thought of being trapped in the house. It was one thing to be stuck there in life; it was another that she might be trapped there for the rest of eternity. To get her mind off of the feeling of impending doom gripping her soul, Bernadetta set her mind on the question she asked the man previously. 

“You still haven’t told me your name,” she said. “If I do turn out to be trapped here with you, we might as well get to know each other.”

The man paused for a moment, seeming to hesitate on telling her his name. Overall, he seemed like a very serious, standoffish type of person; his appearance and demeanor alone was scary to boot. In life, Bernadetta might have avoided a man like him, fearing he might kill her the first chance he got; but now, in death, what could he do to her? 

Finally, after a few seconds of silence between them, the man responded, “My name is Hubert von Vestra, but Hubert will do just fine.” 

Von Vestra...Bernadetta had heard that name before. The Vestra family was another set of nobles in the Adrestrian Empire; one that was slowly dying out it seemed. Bernadetta recalled her father talking to her mother about the family, Bernadetta hearing him say that marrying Bernadetta into that family was off the table. 

“The Vestra family has no male heirs, and is slowly dying out.” Count Vestra had commented. “I will not have our family be connected to a doomed noble house.” 

“How are you connected to the Vestra house?” Bernadetta asked. “Are you a relative or some sort?” 

The man hesitated once more, but responded sooner this time, “I was the son of the head of House Vestra; I was to be the next Marquis Vestra, as a matter of fact.”

Bernadetta was shocked to hear this; he was the Vestra man who had gone missing years ago? He had worked as the right hand of Emperor Edelgard, and had been last seen riding off to take care of some business, one he refused to comment upon. He hadn’t been seen since then; and some months after he disappeared, it was assumed he was dead. Bernadetta guessed she could confirm that now, with that same man standing before her.

“Usually I wouldn’t detail so much information to anyone,” Hubert continued, “but as I am dead, I see no reason to hold some mystery as to my identity anymore. Had we met in life, I assure you that I would be no different to you than a shadow in the night. I made it a point to work in the shadows, protecting Lady Edelgard and carrying out the dirty work she should not fret herself with; but it seems that those shadows turned against me in the end.”

Hubert’s demeanor seemed to change to a frustrated one, seeming to envision something that had happened in the past. He looked scarier than he had before, with his eyes narrowed in a sharp glare, his lips pressed into a thin line. Though Hubert’s eyes were no longer on her, having been cast to somewhere Bernadetta could not see, she still felt frightened by it. She felt like a stag that had been cornered by a wolf, examining her before pouncing upon her, and tearing her to shreds with its teeth. She shivered at the thought, that in itself seeming to shake Hubert from his trance, turning his gaze back to her. 

“Well, there’s no sense in having you continue to sit on the floor. Come; despite no longer having a body, I still advise you to warm yourself by the fire. It does get rather cold when you do not have blood pumping through your veins.”

Hubert turned and started walking out of the room, leaving Bernadetta and her living family behind. Duke Aegir was no longer in the room, Bernadetta figuring he had stepped out and she hadn’t noticed. Her father stood in the far corner of the room, arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable as he watched his wife continue to sob over their daughter’s, Bernadetta’s body. Bernadetta shivered again as she glimpsed her body behind her mother’s figure, turning her attention back to her father so she wouldn’t have to look at it. Bernadetta wondered if her father mourned for her at all, or if he was just disappointed that he had lost his only heir to the Varley name. He was her father, but Bernadetta always wondered, at the back of her mind, if he even loved her at all. She knew that her mother did, with all her heart, but her father? 

That was a mystery Bernadetta might never figure out. Hubert appeared before her once again, seeming a bit annoyed, his arms once again crossed over his chest. 

“Are you going to follow, or do you just insist upon freezing?” he asked. 

Bernadetta meekly nodded, “Yes, I’m coming.” 

Before Bernadetta could make a move to stand, Hubert held out his hand to her. Bernadetta was a bit surprised that he offered to help her up, wondering for a moment if there was something more under his cold and scary nature. While she was still a bit fearful of him, what could he do to her now? Bernadetta was dead, she and Hubert both were; what more could he possibly do to her? So, with slight hesitation, she took his hand, Hubert gripping it as he pulled her to her feet. However, once she regained her balance, Hubert did not let go of Bernadetta’s hand, instead proceeding to lead her out of the room by hand. His gloved hand was cool, and it gripped her hand lightly, but Bernadetta did not fear it. 

Somehow, she felt a sense of calm with her newfound housemate, something she wouldn’t have expected to feel with someone such as him. Normally, in any other circumstance, she would have cowered away from him, for fear that he might bring about her end. However, she had already passed that end, and was now on a new path, one she wasn’t sure she wanted to follow; but what choice did she have? This was her reality now, what her life had become; well, at least what the end of her life had turned out to be. As Hubert led her back down to the parlor, Bernadetta’s eyes traced his figure, all dressed in black, with a cape fluttering behind him. In a strange way, it was like she was accepting the hand of death, Hubert’s white glove the only light in the darkness; one Bernadetta felt she must hold onto to navigate the rest of their eternity.


	2. Hints of the Past, Glimpses of the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Count Varley sells the manor after the death of Bernadetta, and he and Countess Varley move out shortly thereafter. Only able to spare a few of her items from being hauled away, Bernadetta has to find ways to entertain herself in this new, lonely afterlife. However, it is not so lonely as she thought it would be; Hubert changed her mind about that. Though he is a mysterious fellow, Bernadetta forms a friendly relationship with him. Despite this friendship, however, Hubert has not yet revealed how he died, and Bernadetta wonders if he ever will. 
> 
> Before Bernadetta could press further or not, a pair of visitors come to look around the manor...and a familiar face is among them

Many things changed in the beginning of Bernadetta’s afterlife. Shortly after her wake and funeral, Bernadetta’s father sold the mansion that she called home. Bernadetta didn’t yet know who he had sold it to, but she overheard her mother and father discussing it over tea. Bernadett’a poor mother didn’t want to leave the house Bernadetta had died in, but Bernadetta knew she would continue to suffer if she stayed. There were now too many painful memories for her mother to bear, and Bernadetta knew it was best for her parents to move elsewhere. That didn’t mean that it was easy for Bernadetta to deal with, however. It was heartbreaking, watching her mother and father disappear down the road in their carriage; she wondered if she would ever see them again. 

Soon after that, all of the stuff Bernadetta and her parents owned was moved out. Bernadetta was so sad to see all of her stuff go, the house now being an empty shell of what it once was. Bernadetta was at least able to hide a few of her things under one of the floorboards of the attic, able to hide a few of her books, a few dresses, and her precious teddy bear. While she couldn’t hide much, Bernadetta hid the things she would be the saddest to let go of, her teddy bear being her most prized possession. She had received it from her grandmother when she was born, as her mother had told her. It was very precious to her because she was very attached to it, and had never met her grandmother, as she had passed away shortly after she was born. Bernadetta clutched her teddy bear as she watched a group of her family’s servants leave with the rest of their things, watching the carriage drive away until it disappeared down the hill. 

Since that day, Bernadetta had been alone with Hubert. The days passed idly by, Bernadetta not having much to do besides read the books she hid, and take walks around the property. At least being dead meant that Bernadetta got less tired on her walks around the estate; she even took a full day to walk around the entire property at one point. Hubert and Bernadetta spent much time with each other as well; after all, they were the only ones they could talk to. They would sometimes sit on the terrace and talk about what they did when they were alive, Bernadetta being surprised on how many interesting stories Hubert had. Bernadetta always thought that being the emperor’s right hand would be interesting, but she could never have imagined the stories Hubert told her taking place. While his stories of assassination and spywork unsettled her a great deal, Bernadetta always looked forward to Hubert’s stories; his eyes always seemed to glimmer a little when he recalled his past life. 

However, try as Bernadetta might, she could never get Hubert to reveal how he died. Every time she would try and turn the conversation towards that topic, or just ask it outright, Hubert would somehow always dodge it. It seemed like he was angry, or at least disgruntled, about how he died, a darkened, serious look always taking over his expression when Bernadetta brought it up. Hubert would also often want to be alone after it was mentioned; sometimes he would even walk out of the house, and Bernadetta wouldn’t see him until the next day. She was first fearful that he was angry at her for asking, but he later assured her it was not the case. 

“If I was cross that you pestered me about it so, I would have already dealt with you accordingly.” he admitted. “However, that is not the case at all; I believe I just grow resentful of that time, as well as the person who caused my death.”

While Hubert’s explanation was cryptic at best, Bernadetta was relieved he did not detest her for her curiosity, as morbid as it may be. Bernadetta never thought she would be so interested in someone’s death, but who could blame her. If she was going to be stuck with Hubert for the rest of eternity, she at least wanted to get to know him fully. However, try as he might, the answer to her one big question always eluded her. Eventually, as time went on, she stopped asking the question altogether. Hubert would either one day tell her about what caused his death, or he wouldn’t; that was just reality. Bernadetta soon accepted it, however, and went about entertaining herself as best she could. 

She would soon find something to occupy herself with when a mysterious carriage pulled up to the steps leading to the entrance of the mansion. It was very ornate and exquisite-looking, seeming fit for a queen; or more so an emperor. And that’s exactly who it was, Bernadetta watching in awe as Emperor Edelgard herself stepped out from the carriage. She gazed up at the towering estate, seeming to study its every structure and design. Soon, she made her way up to the entrance, Bernadetta rushing down from the attic to see what Lady Edelgard was doing. As Bernadetta reached the start of the staircase leading to the ground floor, she watched the emperor enter the house, continuing to look around and examine the place. As Bernadetta watched her, she felt Hubert walked up to stand beside her, his eyes also fixed on the white-haired woman below them. 

“I never thought I would see her again.” he breathed, seeming as though he might start to shed tears. 

However, Hubert kept himself composed, descending the staircase as Edelgard examined it, turning to speak to the man that had come with her. He looked to be someone of another noble house, but Bernadetta did not recognize him at all. 

“And you’re sure this is the place?” she asked, her voice strong, yet soothing. 

“I am quite certain, your excellency.” the man replied. “I am so certain that I bet my title as a noble of the Adrestrian Empire on it!” 

“We shall see if you uphold that if you are mistaken.” Edelgard replied, moving towards the parlor, her hand trailing across the faded chestnut-colored walls. 

Hubert bowed to her as she passed; even though they both knew she could not see him, Bernadetta knew that Hubert would always hold the emperor in the highest respect. He would treat her as he did in life, with the utmost respect and courtesy. Hubert sharply eyes the nobleman as he follows Edelgard around the house, Bernadetta spying two imperial guards guarding the door as she too descended the staircase. Like Hubert, Bernadetta followed the two around the house, listening to them converse about its structure and history. However, there seemed to be a sinister undertone to what the two were discussing. Bernadetta wondered why the emperor would want the house in the first place. It was far less grand than the imperial palace in Enbarr, and didn’t have land as vast as the emperor’s holiday estate. 

“We shall soon see if this house holds as many secrets as we have come to believe.” Edelgard said, her powerful voice lightly echoing off the high ceilings of the foyer. 

Hubert and Bernadetta had followed the emperor and her noble companion throughout the house, Hubert keeping an especially close eye on the man. While Bernadetta didn’t believe Hubert could do anything to him, the possibility didn’t ever leave her mind. If the nobleman dare disgrace the emperor, dare even lay a hand on her, Bernadetta knew Hubert would find some way to make him pay for it; and he would do so with the utmost pleasure. However, that never came to pass, the emperor, nobleman and guards leaving soon after finishing their look around the house. Hubert watched their carriage disappear down the hill, a saddened look crossing his eye for a long moment. Bernadetta knew he longed to go with her, to serve her in death as he had in life; but they both knew they could not leave this place. 

Bernadetta placed her hand upon Hubert’s to comfort him, the man flinching as her light warmth engulfed his white glove. He looked at her with slight surprise, but it soon faded into an uncharacteristic small smile. 

“So bold of you to comfort a man you barely know.” Hubert chuckled, Bernadetta smiling and shaking her head in response. 

“For all the time we’ve spent together in the past...well, however long it has been, I believe I’ve come to know you a great deal, Hubert.”

“Yet you do not know all there is to know about me.” Hubert argued. “Are you sure you can truly trust a man you have only met in death?” 

“Better to know you now than to never have at all.” Bernadetta replied, her smile and eyes telling Hubert everything she wanted to say. 

Hubert’s eyes widened a bit before he turned his head, his face obscured from view by his black locks. Bernadetta thought she could see a hint of red on his cheeks from behind a few strands of his hair, but it might have just been the light from the setting sun that cast it. Whether it was a blush or not, the tightening of Hubert’s grip on her hand made a blush of Bernadetta’s own making spread over her cheeks. 

“You are so naive, Ms. Varley; but you may have more wisdom than I gave you credit for.” Hubert said, his last statement making Bernadetta smile widen just a bit more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Chromadetta for giving me this amazing prompt! I owe you for my renewed boost of drive and creativity!


End file.
